


The Howling of Wolves

by JaskiersWolf



Series: Shifter!Jaskier AU [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Dynamics, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Happy Ending, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Major Character Injury, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Pack Family, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Lambert (The Witcher), Serious Injuries, Shapeshifter Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaskiersWolf/pseuds/JaskiersWolf
Summary: After wintering with the witchers at Kaer Morhen, Geralt and Jaskier are back on the road. Only it appears someone has taken notice of Geralt's strange string of companions. Jaskier finds himself in trouble and it's up to the wolf pack to save him before it's too late.- Can be read as a stand alone but makes more sense as part of the series
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Shifter!Jaskier AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907506
Comments: 134
Kudos: 845
Collections: Just.... So cute...





	1. Chapter 1

Jaskier was bored. Geralt had gone out to hunt a werewolf and Jaskier hadn’t really felt like joining him. He found hunts for werewolves a little too close to home but he understood why Geralt was asked to hunt them. Werewolves were very rarely in control of themselves when they turned. They became overwhelmed with bloodlust and rage when they got too close to humans. 

Still.

Jaskier couldn’t help but feel sorry for those he viewed as a sort of cousin. Geralt tried his best to cure the werewolves of their lycanthropy when they wanted it, and he would avoid killing them at all costs. Jaskier had been thrilled to learn this had been the case even before Geralt had met Jaskier.

Jaskier smiled soppily at the thought of his friend and lover as he adjusted the peg on his lute. One of the strings had snapped the night before whilst he’d been playing and left him with a rather nasty slice to his palm. Luckily he healed faster than your average human so the wound hadn’t bothered him all that much but changing his lute strings was always a fiddly inconvenience. 

He sighed as he plucked the string, testing it against the others until he was satisfied that it was all tuned correctly. He strummed the strings one last time to check the intervals between the notes. The chord rang out in the small tavern room that he shared with Geralt. He smiled and then dampened the sound with the palm of his hand and put his lute away. 

The good people of this settlement only knew Jaskier as the bard that travelled with Geralt. They hadn’t yet met Mister Fuzzball or Dandelion the dog so Jaskier had played a set before and after his dinner and then retired to his room after the string had snapped. He had hoped that Geralt would have returned at some point during the night but he’d woken up just as alone as he had the night before. 

“Stupid witcher.” He grumbled to himself. “Should have left with Lambert or Eskel. Serves him right for taking too long.”

He sighed. 

That wasn’t fair. He knew it wasn’t but it was easier to be grumpy at Geralt than to consider the fact that his partner had been injured whilst he wasn’t there to help. 

That and he was lonely. 

After a whole three months of being hauled up at Kaer Morhen with a whole pack of witchers and not a moment alone, he was finding the silence disturbing, and he missed the others. 

At least he still had Geralt. The silver-haired witcher and love of his life didn’t appear to be getting sick of him yet which was, in itself, nothing short of a miracle. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d anyone who’d stuck around for so long. Apart from maybe his nurse as a child, but then his parents had been paying Lila so did she really count?

He frowned. 

Of course she counted. She’d been his only friend in that godforsaken castle. He was just being sad and dramatic. 

“Right. Breakfast.” He muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on, Jask. Stop moping about.”

And maybe Geralt would be waiting for him downstairs. 

That thought put a smile on his face so he pulled on his shimmering turquoise doublet and made a half-hearted attempted to do it up before heading downstairs. He took the steps two at a time, not caring that he was only setting himself up for disappointment. He had hope and he was clinging onto it like a dog with a bone, and he would know about that. 

He’d never quite understood the bone cravings he had when he was a dog but like most things about his animal forms, he didn’t really question it. 

He stopped, frozen solid, when he reached the bottom step and his eyes spotted a familiar figure in the corner. 

Geralt.

With a coppery coloured ferret sat on the table in front of him. 

Jaskier gaped at the sight. That imposter didn’t even look anything like him!! Geralt was seemingly talking to the ferret and was so focussed on the creature that he didn’t notice Jaskier sneaking around the outside of the room until he could hear what his witcher was saying. 

“Would you stop biting me?” Geralt rolled his eyes and poked the ferret on his head between the ears. 

Jaskier. Was. Offended!

Yes the slithering bastard had blue eyes which was strange in normal ferrets but that didn’t look anything like his ferret form! 

He snorted and crossed his arms. 

The sound finally drew the attention of Geralt who stared at him with a furrowed brow and then looked back at the ferret on the table. 

“You’re not Jaskier.” He said rather bluntly to the ferret.   
It chattered and bit Geralt’s hand, enough to draw blood. 

“Shit.” Geralt cursed and pulled his hand away sharply before picking the creature up by the scruff of its neck and dumping it on the floor. 

Jaskier tilted his head at his partner and smirked. “Hello Geralt.”

Geralt swore again and pressed his palm to his forehead. “Jaskier.” 

Jaskier licked his lips and flicked his fringe from his eyes. At least Geralt had the decency to look ashamed of his mistake. “Making friends are we?” He let out a peal of laughter as the absurdity of the situation of the situation hit him. 

“Shut up.” Geralt grumbled and stared unrelentingly at his drink.

Jaskier grinned and slid down onto the bench next to Geralt. He leant against the witcher and pulled the drink away from him. 

“Get your own.” Geralt tried to pull it back and ale slopped over the edge of the tankard. 

“Oi!” Jaskier shook his hands, droplets flying onto the table, then he grinned and smeared the ale down Geralt’s face. 

“Jaskier!” Geralt growled. 

Jaskier pouted and kissed Geralt’s cheek. “Yes, dearest?” 

“Fuck off.” 

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.” He mimicked his partner’s gruff voice and then patted the witcher on the shoulder. “You, sir, are just grumpy because I caught you talking to a ferret, which, I might add, looked nothing like me.” 

“He was brown and had blue eyes. It looked exactly like you.” Geralt snapped. 

Jaskier smirked and cupped his witcher’s face. “I’m sorry for laughing, love, but you have to admit it is amusing.” 

Geralt’s frown softened and his leant into Jaskier’s touch. “Just don’t tell Lambert.” He mumbled. 

Jaskier pressed his lips to Geralt’s forehead and grinned. “No promises!” He jumped and ran from the tavern before Geralt could catch him.

“Jaskier!” He heard Geralt’s shout from behind him. 

He laughed gaily as he ran from the witcher. He wasn’t in any serious danger from Geralt, that would be ridiculous but Geralt was not above wrestling him to the ground and tickling him. 

And he was fucking ticklish. 

Of course, if he’d stayed put in then Geralt probably wouldn’t have acted. Around other people he still acted like the stoic witcher that everyone else seemed to think he was. Jaskier scoffed. Perhaps it was because of his animal side but Geralt had always been more than that to Jaskier. He’d been so desperate for the soft affection from the cat he’d met on the fence and allowed Jaskier to travel with him for weeks as a variety of animals. Geralt had been aching for companionship. 

How anyone could think he was an unfeeling monster was beyond Jaskier, then again people would think he was a monster too if they knew what he really was. 

There was a sharp pain in his neck and Jaskier reached up with his hand. HIs finger tips brushed against a feather. He pulled at the dart and peered at it carefully.

“Fuck.” He grumbled and tried to shift but he couldn’t. His magic was trapped. “Oh no, no no no.” He closed his eyes and tried harder but it was useless. He was useless and his muscles were getting heavier. “Geralt!” He called but his voice was weak already. 

He stumbled and fell against a tree. It would be ok. Geralt would chase him, he always did. Even if Jaskier fell unconscious then he wouldn’t be taken. Geralt would make sure of it. 

“Geralt…” He mumbled as his vision started to darken around the edges. He hugged the tree as he knees buckled. Whatever was in the dart was acting quickly, the effect it had on his magic was troubling. Whoever was attacking him knew. 

“Bollocks.” He slurred as he fell to the ground. 

* * *

Geralt snarled at the human in front of him. No sooner had Jaskier taken off than Geralt had been cornered by a snivelling scholar who was begging him to take a contract. Geralt had tried to decline politely, or at very least postpone until he could get Jaskier back. He knew the shifter would be wondering where he was, he always followed Jaskier when he ran off like this. It was a sort of game, Jaskier liked to lure Geralt into the light especially when he was being moody and Geralt had a habit of forgetting how to enjoy himself. 

He was getting better at that with Jaskier’s help. 

“Please, witcher.” The man grabbed onto his hand. 

Geralt pulled away with more force than necessary. “I said no. Now excuse me, I have to find my bard.”

To Geralt’s surprise the man laughed. “Oh you won’t find him.”

Geralt spun round and glared at the man who was no longer a snivelling mess. He’d straighten up and was now smiling a sinister grin that made Geralt’s blood run cold. 

“What the fuck?” He looked back at the door. “Fuck! Jaskier!” He ignored the man in favour for charging after his partner, but sure enough Jaskier was nowhere to be seen. 

Geralt focused his senses to search for Jaskier’s footsteps running away from the tavern. Geralt pulled his sword from its scabbard and followed the light-footed prints in the dirt until something else drew his attention. There was a bright blue and green feather on the floor by the edge of the trees and he caught a whiff of Jaskier’s chamomile scent pressed against the bark. He sniffed again to be sure. He could almost see Jaskier’s form pressed up against the tree, on the floor were scuff marks around the feather. Something, or someone, had been dragged. The feather had almost been buried in the dirt. 

Geralt reached down to pick it up, the tip was glistening and had been coated in some kind of poison. 

“Fuck.” Geralt said again. “Why didn’t you fight back?” Geralt asked Jaskier as if he were still here. “Unless the poison stopped you from shifting…” He considered, “but no one else knows.”

“That’s where you’re wrong witcher.” The man from before laughed and Geralt saw red. 

He had the man pressed against the tree and his sword to his throat before the man could even blink. “What have you done with him?” Geralt growled. “I swear to all the gods, if you’ve hurt him.”

“Not I.” 

Geralt pushed the blade harder against the man’s neck until a bead of blood oozed under the edge of his sword. “I would be very careful about your next words.”

“Your bard got careless, witcher.” The man mumbled. He didn’t even smell of fear which was not a good sign. 

Geralt stayed silent and narrowed his eyes at the man. 

“We’ve been trying to find him for years but there wasn’t a trace. Changing his name was clever, but recently there’s been reports of a witcher that sometimes travels with a cat, sometimes with a dog that can turn into a wolf, mutant witcher dogs?” The man scoffed. “Does anyone actually buy that shit?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Geralt growled. 

“And sometimes you travel with a bard.” The man finished with a serene smile. “Young Julian always did love poetry and music.”

Geralt scowled. “Julian?”

The man laughed. “He never told you his true name? Oh and I thought he cared.”

Geralt snapped. His blade slashed and blood splattered and the man crumpled to the ground. 

“Fuck!”   



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst is probably worse in this chapter. Jaskier does not have fun times... so be warned. 
> 
> On the other hand... Aiden!!

Jaskier gasped awake as a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. “Oh bloody hell, fuck that’s cold.” He spluttered through mouthfuls of water. 

His hands were bound in cuffs that were chained to the wall. The metal almost burnt his skin meaning they were laced with dimeritium. He was all too familiar with dimeritium handcuffs, they had been a staple of his childhood during the experiments of his youth. Just to be sure he tried to let out his magic and shift. It would be idiotic not to try, but sure enough he barely felt a ghost of his magic over his skin. 

At least who ever had taken him had allowed him to keep his clothes. 

There was an unsettling itch just below his skin which he hadn’t felt in months which was bothering him.

How long had it been since he shifted? Not since before Geralt had gone off on his werewolf hunt, perhaps even a few days before that. Not long enough for him to be feeling like this though. It was normally at least a couple of weeks before he started to feel cramped in his own skin. 

Fuck. How long had he been unconscious…

Unless whatever was in that dart had messed with his magic more than he thought. 

“Geralt?” It was a long shot but he had to ask, at the very least he could work out whether his boyfriend was in danger. 

“Your witcher isn’t here, petal.” 

Jaskier’s heart sank and he felt a dizzy panic hit him like a giant. 

“No.” He whispered. 

He couldn’t be here. Not now, not again. 

“Now, is that anyway to greet your mother, Julian?” His mother stepped out of shadows, and people wondered where he got his flare for the dramatics.

“Well, I would say it’s lovely to see you, mother, but I am currently chained to the wall.” He held up his bound hands as if to prove his point. “So really I’d rather be on my way and out of your hair, if you don’t mind.” 

She laughed. “Oh dear boy, the cuffs are for your own good.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, heard that one before.” He muttered. 

“If we can just work out how to cure you then everything will be ok. You don’t need to be a monster.” She cooed, the same shit that she’d been spewing for years before his escape.

“I am not a monster!” He snapped. “Geralt knows that.” 

“That witcher is no better than the beasts he slays!” His mother shrieked. “I only ever loved you, darling. Why must you fight me?”

“Loved me?” Jaskier scoffed. “You hate my very existence, or do you just hate the reminder that you cheated on your husband, that you’re stuck in a loveless marriage?” 

“Gag him!” His mother ordered and Jaskier’s chains were yanked hard. He fell back against the floor. 

“Hmmph!” He protested as one of the servants tied something around his head. 

“Now, shall we begin?” His mother knelt down and cupped his cheeks. He saw his own eyes reflected back at him. There had never been any doubt of who his mother had been. His eyes were the spitting image of hers. 

It had taken him a long time to learn to love his eyes. 

“Hmmph.” He grumbled and rolled his eyes at her, shaking the cuffs on his hands. He’d never been very good at keeping his hands still. 

She stroked a finger along his cheek and he tried to turn away. 

How had he ended back in this hell?

He just hoped Geralt would find him soon. 

* * *

The witchers of Kaer Morhen had gathered in a dingy looking cave. Geralt was pacing irritably across the entrance of the cave. It had been weeks since Jaskier’s disappearance. He’d tried to track his partner on his own but whoever had taken him had been too good so he’d sent messages to his pack and waited, impatiently for them to arrive at a fairly central location. 

Lambert had been the last to arrive. He’d turned up with another witcher in tow, a blond blue-eyed witcher from the School of Cat. On any other day Geralt would have teased his redheaded brother about finally finding a friend who could tolerate him… but today his focus was on Jaskier. 

“Wolf, you are making us all seasick with all that pacing.” Vesemir said in a calm voice. 

Geralt snarled at the oldest witcher. How could he be so calm when Jaskier was missing?

“Jaskier is missing, possibly dead, and you are worried about getting seasick!” Geralt snapped. 

“Hey.” Eskel punched his arm. “You’re not finding anyone like this. Getting pissed at Vesemir won’t help Jaskier, Geralt.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to find him.”

Eskel pulled him into a hug and he buried his face in his brother’s shoulder. “We’ll find him. They’ll regret taking one of our pack. I promise you.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder them all.” Lambert agreed. 

Geralt looked at Lambert over Eskel’s shoulder and scowled. “No. Whoever did this, they are mine.” 

Lambert laughed darkly and nodded. “Alright, White Wolf. You have a deal.”

“No.” Vesemir said firmly. “We do not take revenge. We get the pup and we get out.”

“But Vesemir!” Lambert whined. 

“We kill to defend ourselves, nothing more.” Vesemir’s voice left no room for arguments. 

Geralt scowled and picked up his swords. “Let’s get moving.”

“Do we actually know where we’re going?” The blond witcher drawled as he pushed himself off of the wall. “Because it seems like not one of you actually has a plan?” 

Geralt glared at the newcomer and his fingers itched to reach for his sword. He wouldn’t hurt Lambert’s friend but normally they would greet new witchers by sparring or wrestling, especially if they were being welcomed into the pack of wolf school witchers. Jaskier had gotten a pass, partly because he wasn’t a witcher and partly because he could turn into a fucking dragon. It also helped that Geralt had vouched for him. 

Lambert had vouched for Aiden but Lambert didn’t have a good history of choosing friends, and Geralt didn’t trust Aiden yet. 

“Don’t even think about it, you bastard.” Lambert snarled. 

“You gave Jaskier concussion.” Geralt pointed out.

Lambert had the audacity to laugh. “Fair point, sorry Aiden, he gets a free hit when all this is over.”

“Idiots.” The cat witcher muttered. “All of you. Remind me again why we’re friends?”

“Because I’m pretty?” Lambert suggest. 

Eskel snorted. 

“Oi!” Lambert growled. 

“Can we please focus!” Geralt snapped. “Jaskier is missing! I don’t care if Lambert’s pretty or not.”

“Yeah but…” Lambert protested. 

“You’re gorgeous, darling, but the White Wolf has a point.” Aiden winked at Lambert who spluttered and went bright red. 

“Right. Yup. Ok.” He muttered and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“What did you say that man called him?” Aiden asked, peering at Geralt with cool blue eyes. 

Geralt frowned. “Julian.”

Aiden nodded. “Then I think I can help you, if you’re willing to trust me, dog?”

Geralt glanced at Lambert. His cheeks still matched the colour of his hair and he was scowling angrily at the world, but he nodded. The nod was barely perceptible even to Geralt but it was enough. Lambert trusted this new witcher and he was Geralt’s only hope right now to finding Jaskier. 

He reached out his hand and Aiden grasped it tightly as they shook on it. “Help me.” Geralt all but pleaded. 

“Alright, listen up dogs.” Aiden grinned, his fangs shining in the firelight. 

* * *

Jaskier groaned as he was pulled to his feet. How long had he been here now, stuck in his old bedroom as if he’d been sucked into one of his nightmares?

His skin itched, his bones ached and he felt like he was on fire. The metal cuffs cut into his skin and his once cream shirt was now yellow and covered in splatters of blood. 

The last time he’d been here, his family’s attempts at ‘curing’ him had been based on working out the limits of his abilities and where they had come from. This time his mother, without the help of mages, had decided to starve his magic instead. He woke up shivering each morning and it was instinctive to him to try and shift but every morning he let out a pitiful cry and fell to the ground sobbing. 

He was stuck. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

He had begged his mother to take off the cuffs, to allow him to shift. He’d promised he wouldn’t shift into anything dangerous or try to escape but he needed. 

Gods he needed. 

He ached. 

But his mother just pulled him to her chest and stroked his hair, whispering that it would pass and that he was just experiencing withdrawal following his time with the witchers. 

The witchers. 

Geralt. 

Where was Geralt? 

Why hadn’t he come?

He’d been sure that Geralt would find him. 

And it all hurt so damned much. 

“F-fuck!” He stammered and curled up into a ball on the floor. 

At least before his room had at least tried to resemble a bedroom. Now it was just a stone cold prison. 

He felt sick to his stomach. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could survive. He needed to shift. They knew that. They knew they were killing him in this crazy plan to cure him.

But he needed to survive. 

He had to. 

For Geralt. 

For his pack. His family. His heart.

He had to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry (not really I love it!) 
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) I probably deserve it after this mess. I swear the next story in this AU will be happy again!
> 
> \- Wolfie


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is tagged with having a happy ending and I do mean it. There's just... more angst first? Jaskier again is not having a great time. He is not well (to put it mildly), but I guess whumptober is a thing right?

They were riding towards Lettenhove Castle as fast as they could. Word had obviously gotten out about the pack of witchers charging across the Continent. At every village and town they passed through there was a gathering of people waiting to watch them gallop through, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind them. It was a peculiar sight to see five burly witcher men, each with two swords strapped to their backs, with the exception of Aiden whose weapons were concealed, Melitele knows where. 

Aiden had been a surprise blessing. The witchers of Stygga Citadel were renowned for their involvement in human politics. They were not only monster slayers but also hired assassins, gaining a vicious reputation along the way. Aiden’s knowledge of the human’s nobility had proven invaluable. Apparently about three years ago the heir to the Lettenhove Estate, who went by the name of Julian Pankratz, had gone missing and his parents were very keen to find him again. There had been rumours about the boy’s parentage that made the Viscount fly into a rage, and even more strange had been the never ending stream of mages and sorcerers that were seen to enter the Castle. 

Geralt had to dismount when he’d heard about that, paired with the snippets that Jaskier had told him about his past and the way he’d reacted to anyone studying his abilities too hard, Geralt suddenly had a grave realisation about all that Jaskier had been through before they’d met. 

He pulled Lambert from his horse and they wrestled on the ground until they were both sweaty and covered in dirt. Geralt only stopped when he had Lambert pinned underneath him, which hadn’t been easy. He was distracted and kept making mistakes. Lambert almost caught him more than once but Geralt was also angry and his rage had prevented him from allowing himself to be caught in Lambert’s grip. 

Lambert eventually tapped out whilst Aiden cackled at the whole thing as Geralt stood up and stalked away. The rage was still there but he felt better for the roughhousing.

“So when do we get to wrestle?” Aiden was lying on his stomach with his chin propped up on his arms. He tilted his head and winked at Lambert who was still lying on his back and panting heavily. 

“What?” Lambert gaped at the cat witcher and Geralt rolled his eyes. He gave it less than a week before the pair were fucking like rabbits. 

Aiden reached out and brush Lambert’s curls away from his eyes. “You look good on your back, wolf.”

Lambert flushed darker. 

“Get a room.” Eskel muttered. “Preferably far away. We don’t need a repeat of Geralt and Jaskier.”

“Oi!” Lambert growled.

Aiden grinned. “Awww, darling. They gave us their blessing.” He cooed and promptly kissed Lambert’s forehead and then jumped to his feet. 

Lambert was left flailing on the floor as the rest of them moved to get back on their horses.

Geralt just shrugged and let out a long sigh. “Can it wait til we’ve found Jaskier?” He grunted. 

Aiden smirked. “Of course, but I want a summer wedding.”

“WHAT?!” Lambert spluttered. 

“Lambert get on your horse. We’re wasting time.” Geralt grumbled. 

“We’re wasting time.” Lambert snarked. “As if you didn’t start all of this.”

“I’m finishing it!” Vesemir called over their bickering. “Let’s ride, wolves.”

Aiden scoffed. “It’s like I don’t even exist.” He sighed dramatically and Geralt’s heart clenched.

He was so like Jaskier in so many ways. Many years ago there had been a mistake in the mutagens that the Cat School used, meaning that instead of dulled emotions, like other witcher schools, they had heightened emotions. As a result Aiden shared many similarities with the flamboyant bard that Geralt adored, unfortunately with Jaskier missing, those similarities were like salt in a wound.

“You’re an honorary wolf.” Eskel laughed. “Welcome to the pack.”

Aiden blushed but hid his joy behind a smirk. “Oh yippee.” He drawled sarcastically. 

_________________

It was the noise that woke Jaskier up from his restless sleep. He groaned as he tried to open his eyes but even that was a chore now. His clothes were drenched in sweat and his hair was sticking to his forehead. His lips were chapped and bleeding. The daily allowance of one cup of water was no longer enough, not when he was losing so much moisture through his skin and the constant sweating wasn’t enough to keep him cool. 

He was burning up. He was now certain that he would die here. Unless he could find a way to get out of the handcuffs and away from his room then he was going to die. He’d managed it before three years ago but back then he’d had Lila’s help. 

Lila wasn’t here this time.

And neither was Geralt. 

He was fucked. 

“Jaskier!!” 

Geralt?

“Jaskier, where are you?” Geralt, definitely Geralt shouted again. 

Jaskier struggled to lift his head from the floor. He winced as the room began to spin. 

Fucking cock bollocks! He needed to say something. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. 

Geralt…. He mouthed the word but it was no good. 

“Geralt! Over here! I think I can smell him!” Eskel was here too. 

Oh gods, he was saved. 

He sobbed without tears as he curled up on the floor. They were here. He was going to be ok. 

“Oh gods, it stinks.” Eskel grumbled as Jaskier’s bedroom door was flung open. “Shit!”

Jaskier looked up at the blond witcher and he swore that Eskel had never looked so beautiful as he did in that moment. His amber eyes were like fire and his sword clattered to the ground. Eskel had blood smeared across his cheek but it didn’t look like it was coming from the witcher.

That was the noise Jaskier had heard. The sword of wolves tearing through the castle. 

“Geralt! I found him!” Eskel shouted again. “Fucking hell, bard. Look at you.”

Jaskier laughed silently and then coughed. 

“Can you talk?” Eskel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jaskier opened his mouth but no sound came out so he gave a small shake of his head, wincing at the pain in his temples. 

“Jaskier!” Geralt’s voice.

And Geralt’s arms around him. “Fuck! What’s wrong with him?” 

“I don’t know. He can’t talk and he stinks.”

Jaskier grimaced and tried to open his eyes again, when had they shut… he wasn’t sure. 

“Jask?” Geralt’s fingers were on his cheek. 

“Oh shit! I’m gonna fucking kill them, I don’t care what Vesemir says.” 

“Darling, you just did.”

“Well we can get a mage to bring them back and I can kill them again.”

“Shut up!” Geralt growled. “Jaskier, look at me?”

Jaskier tried. He really did. 

“Eskel what’s wrong with him?” Geralt’s voice sounded panicked as it floated through the air. 

The cuffs.

They had to get the cuffs off. 

It was his only hope right now. He took a long shaky breath and forced his eyes open. 

Geralt was there, holding him tightly. Jaskier focussed on his lover’s embrace and used it to ground himself. He lifted his bound hands. 

“Off.” He gasped, barely audible even to a witcher’s ears. 

And then he passed out. 

_________________

It took two witchers on his hand to break the handcuffs open. Aiden had tried to pick the lock but Geralt was impatient and all but shoved the cat witcher to the floor, earning himself a snarl from Lambert. 

“Concussion.” He muttered as he strained against the metal. 

Soon enough the others joined his efforts and the cuffs clattered to the ground. 

“Move, Geralt.” Vesemir spoke calmly and brushed Geralt aside. 

Vesemir had been in charge of their stack of non-witcher healing potions. He was least likely to tumble around whilst fighting and break the bottles. Geralt had a habit of rolling out of the way of attacks, as did Eskel. Lambert practically threw himself at his opponents, much to Vesemir’s dismay and Aiden… well none of them knew him well enough yet to judge. So Vesemir had pocketed the supplies as they jumped from their horses to launch their attack on Lettenhove Castle. Not everyone had died. The witchers only attacked those who sought to harm them, they left most of the servants in peace as they cowered under tables and in the wardrobes. 

Vesemir unplugged a bottle and poured the liquid into Jaskier’s mouth. The bard choked on the potion but managed to swallow most of it. He looked terrible, gods Geralt wasn’t sure Jaskier was going to survive this. They should have contacted a mage. Potions weren’t going to be enough. 

“He needs water.” Vesemir grumbled. “Lambert, fetch me some.”

“Why…” His question was cut off by a steely glare from the oldest witcher. 

“Now, wolf!” 

“Right.” Lambert and Aiden both went in search of water. 

Geralt hugged Jaskier tighter to his chest. “Come, Jask. You can’t die. I won’t let that happen.”

“Geralt…” The word was slurred but definitely there.

“I’m here.” He brushed the sweaty strands of brunet hair away from Jaskier’s eyes. 

“Love you.” Jaskier sighed wearily. 

“I love you too, now come on, Jask.” Geralt all but growled. “You have to stay alive.”

“I have to shift.” Jaskier mumbled. 

“Then shift.” Geralt said softly. “I’ve got you.”

“Can’t.” Jaskier mumbled. The potion was helping. His lips were already less chapped but he was still weak and Melitele knows what damage there was that Geralt couldn’t see. “This room. Dimeritium, in the walls.”

Geralt frowned and gathered Jaskier into his arms before running from the room and from the house. He didn’t stop running until they were outside where the horses were waiting patiently. 

He heard the sound of the others following him but didn’t pay them any attention as he lowered Jaskier back to the floor so he could shift without worrying about the drop. 

Jaskier groaned weakly and Geralt’s medallion hummed. Jaskier disappeared into his clothes. 

Geralt helped to push aside the excess fabric and let out a relieved laugh when he found the bundle of fur. Jaskier wasn’t quite as energetic as he usually was but already he was away from death’s door. His coppery fur was matted and he looked like he’d been dragged behind Roach for a few miles but far less feeble than the human that had been lying in Geralt’s arms. 

Jaskier scrambled up Geralt’s arm to sit on his shoulder and Geralt reached up to scratch him between the ears as the shifter nuzzled against his cheek. “You almost died Jask,” He sighed in exasperation “and you still have to be dramatic.”

The coppery ferret on his shoulder dooked and pawed at Geralt’s face. 

He rolled his eyes. “It looked exactly like you and you know it.” Geralt grumbled and pulled Jaskier off his shoulder. 

The fur rippled under his fingers and Geralt was pushed to the floor under the weight of the wolf that was suddenly in his arms. 

“Jaskier.” He grumbled but buried his face in the shifter’s fur. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Eskel soon joined him and curled up against Jaskier’s fur. Even Vesemir stood near enough to stroke Jaskier’s head. Jaskier howled and wagged his tail. His russet fur was still matted and a mess but shifting twice already had done him a world of good. There was light back in his eyes. 

“I have water!!” Lambert yelled and he ran through the front door of the castle with Aiden tailing him. “Jaskier! Fuck he’s alright!” Lambert dropped the jug he was carrying but Aiden caught it with a roll of his eyes. 

Jaskier shook off Geralt and Eskel, and limped over the Lambert. Lambert wrapped his arms around Jaskier neck. 

“You fucking bastard. Don’t do that again.” He grumbled and Geralt chuckled under his breath. 

Jaskier licked Lambert’s face then looked up at Aiden. He growled quietly and then looked to Geralt. 

“It’s ok. He’s a friend.” Geralt reassured his partner. “He has water. You need to drink.”

Jaskier nodded and padded up to the new witcher. Aiden peered at the wolf cautiously but let Jaskier nuzzle against his hand, then he helped Jaskier to drink from the jug. 

“Even your boyfriend is a wolf?” Aiden laughed. “How poetic.”

Jaskier barked and tilted his head at Aiden. 

“I’m a cat witcher. The superior kind, of course.” Aiden tentatively petted Jaskier’s head. 

Jaskier howled and then his fur rippled once more until a cheetah stood where the wolf had once been. 

Aiden’s eyes went wide and he flung his arms around Jaskier’s neck just like Lambert had done moments before. Jaskier’s tail flicked and he nuzzled against Aiden’s cheek, letting out a low rumble of a purr. 

“Oh hang on!” Lambert whined. “That’s not fair. Geralt!”

Geralt rolled his eyes and pulled Lambert into a side hug, ruffling his hair. “You wanted to introduce Aiden to the pack. This is all on you.” He smirked as Lambert groaned. 

“This is not what I fucking meant and you know it. Jaskier! Leave him alone, Geralt! Control your boyfriend.” Lambert dove in between the two cats and Geralt laughed before joining them. 

Soon enough all five witchers and one shifter were bundled in a pile in front of Lettenhove Castle. Vesemir sat on the floor with the spotted cat’s head in his lap and the rest of them were curled around Jaskier. It was a rare sight outside of Kaer Morhen but none of the survivors of Lettenhove dared to disturb them. 

They’d learnt the hard way what it meant to mess with the wolves of Kaer Morhen. Not one of them would make that mistake again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the end! Not sure what will come next with this AU. Something happy hopefully. If you have an idea let me know! I will see what I can do :D 
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/) and there are some shorter under 1k ficlets on there that probably won't get posted on here... unless you guys want that?? 
> 
> \- Wolfie


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